


Fairytale

by Anonymous



Category: Killer Joe (2011)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-15
Updated: 2018-02-15
Packaged: 2019-03-18 23:55:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13692495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Saw Killer Joe recently – lots of genuinely funny moments, complex characters, unpredictable storyline – and I’m sure my jaw would have been further on the floor if I hadn’t looked at Wikipedia and some interviews first.Cinderella story my ass; this is my attempt to patch it up post-movie. (but this is based on fictional characters… meet anyone like Killer Joe in real life, ruuuuuunnnn!!!!)





	Fairytale

She didn’t want to say anything, sitting in the passenger seat of Joe’s car, even though the fact he was obviously speeding set her nerves on edge, amongst… everything else.

Glancing over at him, she saw that his face was set in its typical emotionless position, but his jaw was slightly more clenched and his vein was popping out.

It was like she was in a bad dream.

What was going to happen to her? Did it matter? She thought glumly about the prospects of being a parent, albeit with a man who did have a solid income.

Maybe the grass wasn’t greener on the other side.

She had no idea where she was. A wave of nausea hit her as she considered that he was driving her to a nearby cliff, in a place where her corpse could neatly be disposed of. Of course he could get rid of her easily.

Her fears were belayed as the road turned to gravel and the car screeched to a halt.

“Get out,” he ordered quietly.

She complied, tailing behind him to his front door. Two guard dogs ran to greet him. They had the sense to not bark at her.

He gave them a pat and then turned around and looked her dead in the eye. “This is your place now, and you are my property,” he hissed. “Do you understand?”

She paused, not wanting to adjust to his demanding tone, before she thought the better of it and gave a slight nod, her eyes falling to the ground.

He opened the door and turned on the lights.

Immediately, she fell to the floor, sobbing.

Joe walked over. “You _will_ just have to get used to it. I have a low tolerance for disobedience, so the quicker, the better for you.”

“It- it’s beautiful,” she said between sobs.

His eyes widened as she got up and waved her arm towards the expensively-furnished lounge room with tasteful lighting. “It’s just so beautiful,” she said, twirling around then putting both hands to her mouth to control her crying.

“Get yourself cleaned up,” he said, his tone a bit softer.

She peeked up the staircase then wandered up there, spying the modern bathroom. She ran the bath, discarding her dirty, stained clothing.

Getting in, she added bubbles and lay back with a sigh.

She couldn’t tell if this was heaven or hell. Maybe it was both.

She exhaled, knowing that Joe would be waiting.

Getting out, she dried herself off and then bent down to retrieve her clothes.

“You won’t be needing those.”

Startled, she looked up to see him peering in through the doorframe.

Putting her best meek, subservient smile on she followed him to bed, then lay down on it expectantly.

He started to remove his clothing, pursing his lips. “I suppose we have some things to discuss. I wouldn’t want to accidentally kill you, now.”

She winced and instinctively curled into the foetal position, hearing the threat, knowing how angry he was.

“I’m just being honest, here,” he added.

She tensed as another article of his clothing fell to the ground with a thud.

She kept still as he climbed into bed, feeling the warmth from his body.

He placed a hand on her side. “Dottie, look at me.”

She rolled over to see him naked. It struck her that they’d never had a deep conversation unless they were fully clothed.

“You tried to kill me,” he said quietly. 

She shuddered, knowing she had no leverage. How was she to know she’d run out of bullets? The surprise on her face showed it all. He would have known that she would have gladly pulled the trigger of a loaded gun to kill him, despite his apparent delight at the prospect of fatherhood.

“You were part of the chaos,” she said, tight-lipped. “I just wanted it all to end. You know I wouldn’t have killed Chris if I knew what I was doing.”

“Really?” he asked nonchalantly, knowing their relationship was also rocky.

She started to cry. “He was the only person that really did care for me. He wanted to protect me, keep me safe.”

Joe sighed. “It was unfortunate that your bullet hit him,” he said in a tone that didn’t quite reveal whether he actually believed what he was saying. “But you know that myself or Sharla or Digger would have killed him if you hadn’t. So don’t feel too bad.”

“And Dad?” she asked with tears in her eyes, anguish on her face.

“He may make it through, he may not. But he’s going to need a lot of expensive medical care.”

She looked dismayed. Trailer trash usually neglected their health funds. If she didn’t kill him, then poverty might.

“Sharla’s by his side at the hospital,” Joe added. “I don’t know if that will increase his chances of survival or not.”

Her eyes widened, and she looked worried. But she had to resign herself to fate… was there anything she could do for him?

Joe’s jaw clenched. “You were going to leave with Chris, instead of becoming my wedded bride like we had arranged.”

Dottie looked to the side. “I’ll be honest with you.”

“Please,” Joe responded with faux encouragement.

“It’s about who cares for me the most. You forced me to wear that dress on our first date, despite me not wanting to. Wife, or girlfriend, or- or plaything… you’ll always get your way despite what I want.”

He reflected on her words, looking slightly more placated. “I do like getting what I want,” he said as he pulled her closer.

**

He dashed out the bedroom door in some flimsy pyjamas and then quickly descended the stairs with masterful precision.

“Morning,” she said cheerfully as she reappeared over the kitchen counter with a mixing bowl in her hands.

He looked relieved. He walked over to her and gave her a soft kiss on the lips, knowing that she could see that he had been worried about her escaping.

“I thought you might like some pancakes,” she said.

“That would be lovely,” he replied, pulling up a stool at the breakfast bar, enjoying the whole situation.

She handed him a plate of pancakes with fresh strawberries on the side and chocolate sauce, dusted with icing sugar.

“Mm-mm!” he said appreciatively. “Won’t you have some yourself?”

“Comin’ right up, but go ahead and start – they’re better when they’re hot, dear,” she said, giggling.  

He looked momentarily surprised at the term of endearment, then complied and dug in with a fork. She brought her own plate and sat on a stool on the end of the table.

“These are to die for,” he said, taking another bite.

She glanced up at him, worried at his choice of words.

“Relax, I didn’t mean anything by it.”

A small smile appeared on her face as she continued to eat.

“So,” said Joe, clearing his throat. “I may as well mention what we did last night. Sharla and Ansel will both corroborate the story that a man broke in and started to shoot. We were at my place last night, and we know via the telephone that it all happened. I hope that you will agree to stick to that story.”

“Uh-huh,” she said. “When is Chris’ funeral?”

Joe paused. “Sharla is organising that.”

She shuddered, a dark expression going over her face.

“I will ask her about that when I see her today,” Joe said.

“Thank you,” she said quietly.

“You are welcome,” he said, shoving the last bite in his mouth and taking a gulp of water. “Now, will you be alright by yourself while I’m at work?”

She nodded.

Seeing him go for the door, she stopped eating and ran to get his jacket.

“Thank you.”

“I’m just getting into wife mode,” she said, shrugging her shoulders, smirking.

He looked pleased.

“Joe?” she said softly.

He stopped and cocked his head.

“Would you be willing to pay for my Dad’s medical expenses? So someone can walk me down the aisle, you know.”

His eyes widened at the prospect, then he turned more to look at her fully. “If you are loyal to me, if you are loving towards me… then I will be happy to pay them.”

“It might be tens of thousands of dollars,” she said, faint at the thought.

He lifted her chin. “If you can do those things for me, then it will be worth it.”

She looked overcome, then dashed towards him, hugging him. “Thank you,” she said, between sobs. He affectionately ran his arms down her back, coolly gazing at her.

**

On the way to work, Joe took a detour to the hospital.

“Just turn it off!” he heard a female shrieking from the ward around the corner.

“We need to get the paperwork ready first,” a nurse said apologetically, walking into the corridor.

“Well, hurry up, then!” the voice said. “I ain’t gettin’ any younger!”

Joe walked inside. “Sharla,” he said, nodding.

She was taken aback. “Wh-what are you doing here?”

“I came to make sure that Ansel was getting the best medical care this fine country has to offer.”

“Why would you do _that_?”

“It means something to Dottie,” Joe said coolly, taking slow steps around the room. “But what do I find? You trying to turn his life support off after one day, when he has a decent chance of recovery.”

“It’s costing too much money,” she said darkly.

“I will be happy to cover the bill. But I need your assurance that he will stay alive. It would _upset_ me if something were to happen to him, and I cannot keep my word to Dottie.”

The nurse came back with the paperwork.

“I don’t need it anymore,” Sharla said, waving it away. “He said he’d pay for it all.”

“Oh, you’re a real saint!” the nurse said enthusiastically.

Joe grinned and walked out.

“I don’t suppose you want to pay for Chris’ funeral, too?” Sharla called out after him.

“Well, ain’t you a golddigger,” Joe said mildly as he continued to walk away. “I want to marry Dottie, not _you_.”

Sharla stamped her foot, wondering if she could saw an extra bed in half for a makeshift coffin.

**

A week went by, and Dottie became more distant and withdrawn.

Joe cozied up to her, wrapping an arm around her. After a moment, he said “If you want to talk, let me know.”

“I do want to talk, but not here,” she said, breaking out of his grasp and making her way to the door.

Perplexed, Joe followed her.

They were now in a corner of his backyard.

His eyes widened as she turned and pointed a gun at him.

He instinctively raised his hands. “Why are you doing this?”

“I owe it to Chris to take care of myself. It’s loaded this time. I made sure of it.”

“And the medical payments? It means nothing? “

“You’ve been active for many years now. That kind of money doesn’t mean much to you. Just another breadcrumb you can throw my way to have me grovel at your feet.”

He pursed his lips. “Well, now, what you got here is a good plan. I’ve made a lot of enemies. You’ll be off scot-free, unless you’re covered in my blood. That usually gives it away.”

“Why don’t you just kill yourself and save me the trouble?” she said with fire in her eyes.

“Oh, this would be more therapeutic for you,” he said sarcastically.

She blinked. “Anything final to say?”

“If you line the floor with plastic, you can wrap the body without leaving trace evidence. Ammonia may destroy DNA but they can still tell it’s blood, and bleach only makes the blood clear. Here, I’ll even do it for you.” He made his way over to a nearby tarp and laid it out on the ground, standing in the centre of it.

Her hand started to tremble. “You’re supposed to tell me what I’ve been missing in our situation here. How you can change for the better. Maybe even beg for your life if you can’t do any of that.”

“You know what I am, very clearly, Dottie.”

She tried to look as if she was in control, but her arm wavered even more.

Joe sighed. “I do, always, like to see you happy. That’s all I can say.”

She maintained her stare, searching for any signs of falsehood, and then lowered the gun. “You’ll never know whether I care about you unless you stop controlling me. So let me know when you want a real relationship.”

“A real relationship?” he said, frowning despite being relieved. “What’s that going to cost me?”

“More than you think, darlin’.”

He blinked, then made his way towards her. “You didn’t pull the trigger this time. Thank you,” he said gratefully, grabbing the gun off her.

“By the way, you left the safety on,” he added as he affectionately patted her hair and walked towards the house.

 


End file.
